


Battle Wounds

by animasevera



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bull's Chargers, Canon Trans Character, Gender Dysphoria, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Menstruation, One Shot, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animasevera/pseuds/animasevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are certain parts of Krem's life that are unavoidable. The Iron Bull offers him comfort. Set before Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Wounds

It was bright and sunny today in Orlais.   
  
Not that Krem cared. He ill felt like leaving his room at the inn. The sunbeams shining through the window offended him into drawing the fancy damask curtains, and he returned to his bed to curl up. The ache in his gut made him curse aloud. "Kaffas..." he growled into his pillow, rolling over and drawing his knees tighter.  
  
It was only a month ago that a massive horned man calling himself "The Iron Bull" came to his defense at the cost of his own eye. Before the young soldier had the chance to register what had happened, the stranger had introduced himself and offered to heal his injuries, no questions asked. When his wounds were bandaged, the mercenary captain asked him if he wanted to put his skills to better use.   
  
_"What was your name again, kid?"_  
  
 _"Cremisius. Cremisius Aclassi."_  
  
 _"That's a mouthful. Gonna be hard to yell in the middle of a fight. How 'bout I just call you Krem?"_  
  
 _"Sure, that makes sense."_   
  
The month had gone well enough, with Krem and his new employer enjoying drinks and swapping stories as they got to know one another better. He found himself becoming much more withdrawn, though, as he sensed what would come in the next couple of weeks. His manner had become curt and quiet, only affirming Bull's orders when given, and responding to questions with monosyllables.   
  
It was here now. It had started last night. He discovered it while bathing, itself still a trying task as memories played back in his mind. Memories of being discovered, of fleeing for his life. Memories of the taunts of the men who had come to punish him. Of being called a name that wasn't his, and the fears that often kept him awake at night of what they would do if they found him. The sight of the blood on his fingertips only drove that reality home as he clenched his fists.   
  
He drank himself to unconsciousness in the hopes of sparing himself another sleepless night.   
  
This morning found him with a pain in his belly that kept him from even thinking of getting up. In all truth, he wanted to sleep the week away and wake up like nothing had happened to him.   
  
He wasn't even allowed the peace of forgetting the flashbacks from last night. His eyes now screwed shut, wetness gathering at their corners as his jaw squared until it ached.   
  
_BANG. BANG. BANG._   
  
He had a visitor. A very large, very loud visitor.   
  
Krem seized the pillow next to him and let out a roar of frustration into it before turning his head just enough to be heard. "...It's open," he finally answered, refusing to get up or even roll over to face the door. Not that he needed to - he already knew who it was.   
  
The Iron Bull ducked his head at just an angle to make it through the door, then brought the rest of him inside. "Hey there, Krempuff--Oh wow." His original mirthfulness fell away at the sight of his new recruit's condition. "You don't look so good. What's--"   
  
Krem only groaned in response. He didn't feel like speaking, least of all with the mouthy merc.   
  
Bull raised a concerned brow, his lips pursing together as he studied the younger man. That same eyebrow perked right back up as he pieced it all together, and his lips bowed out into a mild frown. "...Hey," he said, with a much gentler voice than before as he came closer to the bed. "You don't have to answer that. I think I know what's up."   
  
There wasn't even a groan this time, only silence. How could this Qunari know anything about what he was going through? When had he ever dealt with this? Krem's eyes were soaked, now.   
  
Legitimate worry welled up in the captain's chest, but he forced himself to remain patient. "You don't have to talk to me," he went on, "I just want you to listen. You might wanna hear this." When Krem still gave no response, he carefully lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed, with all his concentration on his charge.   
  
"Yeah, I'll admit, I've got no idea what it's like," he confessed sincerely, "But I will say this. You...are one of the toughest, most badass men I have ever met."   
  
The Tevinter drew a sharp, surprised breath, and his eyes snapped open. Slowly, he rolled to the other side to face Bull. "...How do you figure?" he asked, with little hope in his voice.   
  
Bull's lips twitched back up into a genuine, proud smile as he finally heard the other's voice. "You bleed for days and you can still swing a maul and drink. _I_ bleed for days, and I'd probably be fucking dead."  
  
As Krem listened to this, he felt the pain in his chest lightening somehow. His tightly curled posture loosened by degrees.   
  
The Qunari leaned in, lightly resting a mighty hand on Krem's broad shoulder. "Those Vints don't know just how good of a man they had. You've got more experience than any of 'em." He lowered his head to reach Krem's eye level. "You're fighting your own battle all the time, and you've got the war wounds to prove it."   
  
The tears that had been forming in Krem's eyes at last broke free from them to soak his cheeks. Despite the pain in his body and heart, he forced himself to sit up. Words, though, still escaped his shaking grasp.   
  
Bull held his hand out in invitation to be taken. "Son, you're a _war machine._ " When the human accepted his offer, he gave a squeeze of the other's hand and pulled him in close. "I don't give a rat's ass what's under your armor. You fight and you bleed just as hard as any other man. There's nothing anyone else can do or say to change that."   
  
Krem swallowed hard as his vision blurred and his eyes stung. He could barely feel anything over the pounding of his heart in his chest. "I..." he tried to answer, but the words lodged in his throat as he heard the way his voice squeaked.   
  
"Hey, c'mere," Bull gently directed, letting his arms open around the tailor's son.   
  
He used the captain's chest to silence his restrained sobs. There was something strangely liberating about being allowed to spill his emotions without restraint, knowing that he would be protected against anyone who wanted to stop him. Rising up on his weakened knees, he arched his arms around Bull's wide neck and clung to him with all his strength. "... _Grata_ ," he murmured before the ache in his gut forced him to sink down onto the bed and slump limply against the huge Qunari's belly.   
  
A deep sigh of relief flooded out from the larger man's chest. "Any time, Krem-son." That particular pun felt just on the edge of wrong, but his ability to resist had dwindled too far.  
  
Krem himself struggled to decide whether to be offended or amused. Somehow, though, coming from the one it did made him err far more on the side of being amused. Actually showing it, though, would encourage Bull far too much. So, he only responded with a grunt. "When I can get up again I'm gonna kick your ass."  
  
The threat only brought a hearty laugh from the one it was intended for. "Now that's more like it!" With a firm pat on the back, he finally let Krem have his space. "Hey, you need anything?" he asked, ears perking up for the answer.  
  
Krem rolled over and flopped onto his back, arms flailing out to his sides as his senses dissolved into a jelly haze of discomfort and frustration. "I'm in pain, can't see straight, I've got a hangover, and I'm so hungry I could eat a whole Mabari from the back end." His hands flattened out against his stomach, and he growled more obscenities under his breath.   
  
"You need _everything_ then," said Bull, sliding off the bed and heading for the door. "Anything specific you have in mind?"   
  
"...Meat. The redder, the better." Now that the ache in his chest was soothed, Krem's only concern was the growling of his belly and the throbbing in his head.   
  
"You got it. And I'll get you something for that pain, too." Before leaving, he approached the bed and rested a hand on Krem's knee. "You just lie back and sit tight. I'll be back before you know it." With a final glance through the door, he let it shut behind him to give the young human man some peace.   
  
"...Yeah."   
  
Krem let out a heavy sigh, but the heavy burden on his chest no longer weighed him down. When he recalled the memories this time, it was with the addition of a new voice, shouting louder than those who mocked him. A mighty horned shadow loomed at his back, striking down those who sought to torment him. Krem himself felt the muscles of his own arms flex as he recalled how his strong hands wrapped around his maul. Heavy armor defended his shoulders and chest against every blow they cast. His next breath swelled his rib cage, and he stretched out his arms to his sides, feeling his sinews tighten and release the tension inside him. A slow sigh through his nose expelled the last of the ache inside. At last able to rest his mind, he lay back in the bed, allowed his eyes to close, and let his fingers lace together over his lower stomach.   
  
_He was a war machine. These were his battle wounds._


End file.
